


One Damsel in Distress Coming Up

by bittenfeld



Category: I Spy, I Spy (1965)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4318341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a beginning scene.  Their Palm Springs vacation cut short, Kelly might not be toooo terribly upset when he discovers the lovely (blonde!) reason…</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Damsel in Distress Coming Up

Stretching contentedly under the hot Palm Springs sun, Kelly Robinson eyed the delightful example of feminine pulchritude executing the perfect curves of a perfect swan dive into the hotel’s Olympic-sized swimming pool. Yes indeed, perfect curves. Any swimming instructor would have been pleased. Any red-blooded male would have been more than pleased. Robinson definitely met that criterion, and was quite aware that the numerous examples of feminine pulchritude lounging around the sun-deck seemed to find him just as pleasing. Well, pleasing was a very good thing to be, and Kelly Robinson, good Boy Scout that he was, always tried to Do His Best.

Across the pool, a girl seated under a patio umbrella – a lovely girl wearing a lovely lavender bikini – was subtly taking notice of just how pleasing he was right now. He had noticed her noticing him their first evening here, in the dining room. Since then, she had been keeping him under what she evidently considered discreet surreptitious surveillance. Kelly considered that she might appreciate some expert tips on surveillance, and maybe a few other undercover techniques as well. So, before this vacation was through, he would definitely make time to offer his personal private tutelage to the lovely girl in the lovely lavender bikini.

He turned his gaze to the tiled balcony on the near-side of the pool area, where another wonderful example of perfect curves smiled down at him, and with a wink he grinned back. Indeed, this promised to be a very lovely vacation.

Unexpectedly, spray from another dive spattered him and his towel, but he only grimaced comically, and rolled over onto his stomach. The summer sun felt so good on his shoulders that he contentedly clasped his hands under his chin and closed his eyes. It was June, and the Palm Desert hadn't yet heated up to the furnace it would become in another few weeks, the desert flowers were still in bloom, and he and Scotty had checked into the most expensive hotel in town to enjoy a brief respite from the cold harsh nastiness of international espionage. Yes, superb dining, warm sun, and beautiful desert flowers.

A very _very_ lovely vacation.

But hardly had he dozed two minutes, before a toe nudged him awake. Slowly his gaze travelled up from the brown toe to two sturdy legs, up a pair of psychedelic-nightmarish pink-orange-and-green swim-trunks, up a smooth thick chest, until it rested on the dark good-looking but serious face of his partner, Alexander Scott.

“Hey, man, where’ve you ?” the Californian greeted, scooching over on the towel to give the other man room. “You’re late. I’ve been down here for the last hour, having to fend off all these desert lovelies all by myself. I am totally exhausted, sir!”

“Yeah, you look it,” the black man sympathized, not the least bit sympathetically. Glancing over the pool deck, Scott sat down on the towel beside Kelly’s prone body. “I’m late because we had a visitor just after you left, and guess what?”

Scott’s voice, quiet enough not to carry beyond Robinson's hearing, conveyed the meaning only too clearly; and with a groan, Kelly slumped. “Oh no. Man, they can’t do this to us! We are on vacation now, and we have earned every minute of it with our sweat and our blood, and _nobody_ and _nothing_ can make us give it up!”

“One Mr. Conway can.”

Robinson grumbled, propped his chin on his fists and surrendered. “Okay then. But when we get back to Washington, I am going to march right in to one Mr. Conway’s office and…”

“Get us fired.”

“Yeah.”

“Which means we will have one out-of-work tennis-bum, and one out-of-work tennis-bum trainer.”

“Right.”

“Which means there ought to be a better way.”

“Like give up our vacation – our _well-earned_ vacation, I might repeat – so we can chase down some fat old eccentric who wants to blow up Detroit?”

“No…” Scott turned away from the pool as he spoke. “You see that blonde across the way – the one who’s been watching you ever since we got here?”

“mm hmm…” Casually Kelly let his gaze drift across the pool again, passing over the lovely girl in the lovely lavender bikini lounging beneath the umbrella.  He tilted his head to hide his lips. “She’s a Chinese Communist agent, right? And she threw a soft-drink can out of her car this morning, so we have to kidnap her and drag her screaming back to Washington so they can send a missive to Red China asking them to please tell their agents to Help Keep America Beautiful.”

Scott was studying his fingernails, as Robinson rolled over and looked up at him. “Not exactly.” Carefully his gaze swept the pool-deck again. “Her name is Donna Stewart, she is a secretary for a small realty firm in Logandale, Nevada, and she has in her possession, at this very moment, a book which does not belong to her.”

“Oh, for shame! And who does this book belong to, which our lovely secretary from Logandale Nevada has misappropriated, my good man? Because if it’s the Logandale Public Library, and she owes a ten-cent fine, I tell you, Scotty, Washington has sunk to a desperate new low if it feels it has to spend tax-payer dollars to send out _highly-skilled_ intelligence agents to start tracking down library scofflaws now. Either that, or else library scofflaws are getting a _lot_ more sneaky and dangerous than they used to be.”

“No, not the Logandale Public Library. It belonged to a now-deceased Russian agent, who lost it after hiding a list of American agents’ names and whereabouts in the binding. Miss Donna Stewart got ahold of it accidentally, and now the Russians want it back, and they’ll do anything to get it. Needless to say, the good guys are a bit antsy about that list falling into the bad guys’ hands, so we want it even more than they do.”

Folding his arms under his head, Robinson lay back and closed his eyes again. “So, we have one innocent damsel in distress on our hands.”

“Still angry about the interrupted vacation?” Scott glanced over at his relaxing partner.

Kelly grinned, eyes still closed. “Well, I’ll get over it. Say, I’ll give you ten bucks that ugly specimen up on the balcony, pretending not to notice us, is the personal assistant to the second-in-command of the KGB.”

“You lose – that’s our contact.”

Slowly Robinson opened one eye at his partner, then mugged a grin at the ugly specimen up on the balcony. With an acknowledging wink, the man disappeared back into the hotel.

“Well, all right, Mr. Scott,” the handsome brunet conceded. “So, what’s step number one?”

Scott shifted position to lie down alongside him. “Well, first thing is to take a stroll over to Miss Stewart’s chair, and turn on all your charm and suaveness and savoir-faire, like they taught you in spy-school, and invite her out to lunch.”

“Brilliant, my man!” Robinson grinned and sat up. “That’s an excellent idea. Say, how come you’re so smart today?”

“Nothing to it.” Contentedly Scott stretched, then pillowed his head on his arms. “I just took my smart pills this morning. Now, go on. I’ll stay here and keep your towel warm for you.”

* * * * *

_to be continued someday…_

 

 


End file.
